#people are sending me fandom asks?? i'm so flattered!!

[fandom-trash-goblin]

This is a chance to post your not-posted chengxian ideas if you have any. Please gimme gimme gimme gimme-

nonnie you've come at the sort of the right place. i'm like so late to fandom strolling without starbucks because in this house we boycott, and i'm sure this idea must have been done before. but. still. thanks for the ask, i put actual effort into this, hope you like it!! <3<3

A) to the point of invention AU

literally "i love you to the point of invention"

jiang yanli is at lotus pier and she dies :(. wwx and jc proceed to go absolutely feral and codependecy skyrockets

golden core melted-wwx in total breadown canon followed

until golden core transfer fails. fuck. dealers choice how

maybe smthing smthing jiang cheng wakes up to see he's being operated on. his brother lied to him about baoshen sanren and he's about to lose another sibling. #traumatised

both wwx and jc lose their core. they mad angry abt it, at the others throat- codependecy spirals. maybe they fuck. maybe they don't. anyways.

wwx invents demonic cultivation with the intent to protect-- he's mad about it being safe coz his shidi is gonna have to learn it to rebuild lotus pier and take revenge. they'd do it together. cue mad frenzy! wwx, jc handling it with the same ease he's done for years, and wen sibs watching this absolute clusterfuck wondering if these freaks are brothers or lovers or a secret third option.

demonic cultivation being so op and still mad safe because that's his shidi who he has to protect! . maybe they figure out how to power zidian through resentful energy

so you have DEMONIC CULTIVATORS! JC and WWX, both of them. rebuilding lotus pier, taking in E.V.E.R.Y.O.N.E that passes their dodgy moral code. unconventional sect numero uno. super-effing-powerful. No. 1 power couple #lifegoals.

nobody knows whether these two are fucking or not. even i don't. parasitic relationship but like lichen.

Jin Ling don't exist (sad face) but Jiang Yuan, sect heir, new gen demonic + spiritual cultivator, all around powerhouse. his xian-gege and wanyin-ge are so so proud.

where's the rest of the world, isaac? where's lan zhan. oops. forgot about them. pretend they're avoiding the demonic cult. (baby there's so many holes in the plot that it's practically cartoon cheese.) I just know there's gonna be a lot of cultivation science. and politics. and worldbuilding. and wwx being shidifucker extraordinaire.

B) blur on the horizon AU

title from Lady Lazarus by Slyvia Plath. //my brother is still alive. still dead. was brought back with a lazarus shot and a slap to the face// when visibility's poor, i'm the blur on the horizon//

wwx dies. and wakes up. not in mo xuanyu's body.. but in some random cultivator's body. like. and year or two post siege or burial mounds

he travels straight to jc. lotus pier still be recruiting. the recruiters take in this shady man.. let's be real. everyone here is just as shady.

he get's the intro. gets shown the rebuilt pier, the rules and The List. The List being how to defend gongzhu from shitty people and shittier politics. he's so fawking proud bit also resentful and angry because he should have been there. twin prides on yunmeng, remember? (for once in my life let wwx be the more bitter one abt yunmeng shuangjie yeah?)

WWX tries to stay away from JC. but he can't. let's be real he cant.

he climbs up the ranks fast... everyone can see this man would give his life for sect leader jiang. cue Second in Command being WWX 2.0 . wwx, for his part is so bitter but also incandescently happy. man never met an emotion he couldn't twist.

Jiang Cheng is wondering why this random cultivator seems so familiar. it get's so bad that he uses zidian to check this one whether he's wwx every once in a while.

but Jiang Cheng is also so tired of seeing ghosts from the corner of his eyes. and jin ling likes this new SIC when he barely likes anyone apart from his jiujiu. he lets go a little. wwx can wait, for once in his life.

cue wwx gaslighting jc into thinking there's no way this one could be wwx. also him being conflicted because on one hand jc's starting to trust him, and this life is almost everything he's dreamed of, but on the other, he's doing this as Random Cultivator and not WWX, how could you forget me, Shidi?

again, for once in my life let wwx be the more bitter one abt yunmeng shuangjie yeah?

idk i havent resolved this one. but there's a scene where wwx finds out abt chenqing, and jc in a fit of anger, after a hell lot of provoking, talks abt how SIC should have been his brother's (the feared yilling laozhu's) and not some strangers. and jc thinks this guy's gonna run far away from the madman his sect leader is but he's only more loyal more sticky more everything? is everything alright up in his head??

C) digging your grave AU (attempted sexual assault tw. it fails and the man's dead.)

title from Richard Siken's / our father who art in heaven / our father who art buried in the yard / someone is digging your grave right now. /

all of jiang cheng's life, he's never been wanted first, yeah? His father prefers his elder, adopted brother. His mother prefers her work and if she has to interact with someone it's his elder sister. His elder sister's got her own life- a boyfriend madly in love with her- a future mother-in-law who's more of a mother than her own- and sometimes Jiang Cheng thinks even she prefers Wei Wuxian more than him. (jin guangshan was rich, and is dead, good riddance.)

the only one who's cared about him is Wei Wuxian- JC's always been his person for wwx. and that matters so much... here's the person who loves Jiang Cheng for himself, someone for who he isn't a disappointment.

so when one day, on the day of wei changze and cangse sanren's tenth death anniversary, jiang fengmian, drunk out of his mind, tries to kiss wwx, saying how he looks so much like his parents and jc watches it happen. he sees how wwx is so fucking scared.. his brother, his person, the only person who has ever mattered is terrified.. and he just. sees scared and so fucking angry that he doesn't think. it's red. grabs his mother's favourite vase, and smashes is against his father's head

there's a dead man on the floor, bleeding into the carpet. baby jc going hysterical that he killed his dad. and wwx is cold. he can think it through. he's been betrayed by a man he thought as a father... and there's no one he can trust anymore. he has to save jc.

they bury jiang fengmian in the backyard, and run. they dont look back.

years later, jiang fengmian is a homicide case, wwx is a deranged kidnapper and murderer still at large, and jiang cheng is presumed dead. meanwhile, there's two lovely men living in a backwater town, bickering like old married couples do, and it's so nice to see love is in the air. nothing strange about them, yeah? they must have had those old-fashioned prejudiced people for parents. good on them for running away.

@jcs-singular-slut-strand come see what i wrote!!

[swanimagines]

I haven't stopped listening to Mr Sandman since the end of the serie, can you do a one shot where F!Reader is quietly singing(unconsciously) the song and Morpheus asks him what is that? please

Fandom: The Sandman

A/N: Not really a oneshot because the scenario isn't detailed enough for one, but here's little something I wrote from your prompt.

Also a note that this is the last Morpheus request I have in my inbox rn, but you're welcome to send more! It's kinda weird how I don't crush on him (yet?) but I've really enjoyed writing for him for some reason as I build my queue and see the love they get (which encourages me to write more) so more requests for him are welcome 😊 Reminder that you may also use my prompt lists if you don't have ideas of your own!

Word count: 627

Visiting Morpheus' palace every night as your physical self was comfortably wrapped up in your bed was something you didn't think would happen. You were surprised that it had happened so often, but Morpheus had told you that he liked having company and since you had shown him so much kindness, he wanted to offer you company too.

In the Waking World, you were quite lonely. There were some people you saw on a regular basis—your work colleagues, neighbors, acquaintances—but they all had their own lives outside of yours. The few friends you made only ever called or met when there was an occasion, which made you feel unappreciated and like you were contacted only if someone was bored, not because people actually wanted to talk to you.

You had told this to Morpheus when you were plotting freeing him from his glass prison, knowing how he was treated in there and the moment you had learned he was there purely because Roderick Burgess was greedy for power, and not because he had done something horrible, you started laying out a plan of freeing him. He didn't speak, and seemed to doubt your honesty until you actually filled your promise, but now he did trust you. He enjoyed you sitting there with him as he worked. Sometimes you read, sometimes you doodled something or then you spoke with him if he wasn't too busy.

Tonight, you seemed to be deep in thought as you doodled into a parchment of paper, smiling softly at each stroke. Morpheus was deep in his own work, but he was distracted as he heard you hum a tune.

"Mr. Sandman, bring me a dream, make him the cutest that I've ever seen, give him the word that I'm not a rover, then tell him that his lonesome nights are over, dum dum dum..."

He frowned as he lifted his gaze at you, and you noticed it and realised the next moment what you had just said, and you felt heat creeping up to your face.

"What is that?"

You laughed nervously, placing your hands over your cheeks and trying to hide yourself from him momentarily. "Um... nothing." You shrugged, turning your eyes back at your doodle. "Just... something silly I've been listening lately, it's quite an earworm."

Morpheus raised his eyebrows and then an amused smile spread on his lips. "A song about me?"

You smiled at him bashfully, fiddling with the quill in your hands. "It's a really old song and when I started visiting you here, I just... I don't know, I ended up listening to it in Spotify quite often. It brings me comfort when I'm not here."

His eyebrows rose slightly, before he smirked at you smugly. "I am flattered to be remembered so fondly by you when you are awake." He chuckled at your embarrassed expression, before getting back to his work.

You bit your lip, your face still feeling hot and your heart thumping, but managed to continue your doodle anyway.

And once you relaxed, you had started to hum the tune again without noticing, but this time Morpheus didn't react to it apart from a small smile on his lips. He wouldn't say it aloud, but he was pleased that you enjoyed something that reminded you of him, even if it was only a song.

He had offered you kindness in return to you freeing him, and it felt good knowing you were enjoying your nights with him, even if your nights went by just sitting together, barely speaking.

Maybe one day he'd appear in the Waking World and spend time with you in your world for a change, surprise you by taking you out on dinner, show you how much he appreciated you too...

---

The Sandman taglist: @jesllianaquilesrolon @stygianoir // send in an ask to be added, and specify which of my fandoms you want to be tagged on! Don’t just say “can you add me to your taglist” as I can’t know what taglists do you mean by that!! ALSO IF YOU WON’T INTERACT BEYOND LIKING, I’LL EVENTUALLY TAKE YOU OFF THE LIST!!

[missmaywemeetagain]

Pink Scarf - PART 12! (Elvis/Austin!Elvis x Reader)

Character/Fandom: Elvis - Elvis (2022)

Requested: kinda

(Read more here--Pink Scarf Series Masterlist!)

Prompt: You are part of Elvis Presley's coveted inner circle, and the currently-disgruntled wife of one of the members of Elvis' famous entourage, the Memphis Mafia. After Elvis' dynamite first performance in Vegas, you find yourself in deep water when his magnetism finally gets to you after all these years.  [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: Spanking. (If spanking is not your thing, I have marked those parts with ~ at the start and end of them so you can read past them.) Dom!Elvis and dom/sub dynamics. Sex. ANGST. Jealousy. Cussing. Infidelity. Historical inaccuracies in the Vegas timeline. Priscilla doesn't exist in this timeline.  

Rating: Explicit/Mature (NSFW, 18+, so minors Do NOT Interact)        ||     Word Count: 10,660

A/N: We're back, y'all and this part is a MONSTER so you're gonna have to carve out some time (it's what you deserve)! It took on a life of its own, honestly. I really wanted to explore the darker sides of both our Reader and Elvis and their choices. It is important to me in this piece to show that Elvis was a very complex human with very real faults, which can throw some people for a loop if they idealize him or don't know much about him, so be warned.

With that said, the convo between him and Anita in 1961 is real. I transcribed his parts as best I could with the quality of the recording. Hopefully, I did his mood justice in the writing (in terms of how Reader is interpreting it), but if you do choose to listen, I recommend headphones and patience. It's a long one and not a great recording. And once again, depending on your point of view, it shows a not-so-flattering side of EP, so proceed with caution.

Thank you all SO MUCH for your love, patience, and distractions as I've been ill! This community has been so wonderful and it's been amazing getting to know you all better and to be able to share our love of EP in all the ways! 💖

As always, to all my babies, honeys, and lil' mamas supporting me out there, your reactions, reblogs, messages, asks, and comments you've given me have been a blessing beyond expression. I will say I'm a bit self-conscious about this part for a variety of reasons, mainly covid-brain, so be gentle! I'm sorry in advance if it's not up to par.

If you feel so moved, please let me know what you think or how you're feeling (or send me asks)! I think I put everyone on the taglist who requested it, but please let me know if there are any issues or if I missed anyone.

I imagined this with Elvis in mind, but Austin!Elvis works here, too, whatever floats your boat! 

Apologies in advance if there are any grammatical errors or TW that I didn't catch. 

(I did start cross-posting Pink Scarf to my long-neglected AO3 account (which some of you already discovered!), so if you are so inclined, you can check it out over there, though it's not all updated yet!)

Los Angeles, 1961

Walking down the hallway, you cannot help but be drawn to the perturbed sound of Elvis’ unique cadence from beyond the door of the den. It is cracked open just enough for the sound to come through, which must have been a mistake by whoever left last, probably one of the guys. You had seen Red come from this direction not that long ago.

You’d come out to LA at Elvis’ behest to join them all for a visit while he was filming his latest movie. You were happy to see Jack after so much time apart, and you’d instantly gotten swept back up into the Elvis lifestyle while being here, though it was moderately toned down considering his filming schedule. It was a nice change from what was becoming a bit of a lonely existence at Graceland. It wasn’t that you were alone, per say, it was just that the other wives were having and taking care of their little ones, which was a constant reminder of a life you couldn’t have. You loved spending time them and with the children—they just weren’t your own.

You certainly don’t mean to snoop, you’d only been making your way through the California villa to the bedroom to grab something out of your bag, but your curiosity wins out. You stop just shy of the door, head bowed, ear to the crack, wondering who has Elvis in such a state. Of course, you can only hear one side of the conversation, but you try to piece together as best you can what might be going on. You know you shouldn’t, but you do anyway.

Elvis responds to the person he’s talking to in an exasperated tone, “You know why—you know why I don’t call you anymore? This very reason, right here. This very reason right here…I-I-I-can’t talk to you, hon. You mess with my damn head, man. I-I-can’t count on a decent conversation with ya. Ya start throwin’ up all kinds of shit to me. Look, if I called you e-e-every damn night, you’d start bitchin about something different. You’re just a fuckin’ nag, that’s all, you’re just a nagger that’s all.”

Your eyes widen at that, at how mean he’s getting with whichever one of his women he’s talking to. You have seen his temper firsthand over the years, but not directed at you and you’ve never heard him talk to a woman this way. After knowing him all this time, this side of him shocks you a bit, and you stay rooted to the spot.

“Well, that’s the way I feel about it, a-a-and y-y-y-you don’t have to be that way either. Not to the extent that you are, you don’t have to be that bad,” he says vehemently. “I just know you’re gonna start throwin’ something up to me a-and I ain’t got time to hear it. You turn me the fuck up, you know that?”

And he certainly is turned up, you think. His annoyance and frustration are coming through loud and clear on this end, punctuated by his stutter. The woman must be talking because he pauses before continuing.

“Yes, all the time. I-I-I can’t stand it, I-I can’t stand it, Anita, I swear I can’t stand it. I call you and do right, my ass,” he says, annoyed. “I do, do right! My ass. If I called you e-every night, you’d start that shit.” Elvis starts mocking her in a whining, high pitched voice, “‘Who’d you see today? You g-got a girlfriend, I’m surprised at you, blah blah,’ that bullSHIT!” He spits it out at her, angrily. “Naw, it ain’t no lie. Naw, you bring it up every time I talk to you.”

Your heart races a bit just hearing the confrontation and at the thrill that you shouldn’t be eavesdropping in the first place. Of course, it’s Anita, you think. He’s been seeing her the longest of any of his girlfriends, even through Germany. You are friendly with her, but not very close. Although she is always nice to you, she has an air about her that rubs you the wrong way. Not that you’d ever show it, but she just seems a bit self-important to you, what with her beauty queen titles and flitting up to New York or out to Hollywood for her singing or acting. She is a little too pretty, a little too nice, and sometimes it just feels underhanded.

Or maybe you’re just jealous, a niggling voice in the back of your mind says.

You scoff at that. Jealous of what? Sure, it seemed like she had a glamorous life, what with all the things she did, and how beautiful she is, and being the girlfriend of THE Elvis Presley, but you know better than that. And right now it sure doesn’t seem like you have much to be jealous of, considering the way he’s talking to her. She’s been around four years, and there is still no true commitment from him. At least you have a husband who loves you and you are a permanent fixture in Elvis’ inner circle, giving you a leg up in this situation, you think a little haughtily.

Good god, what is wrong with me? Why am I being so petty?

You don’t have an answer to that.

Obviously, Anita is not happy, and it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out why. Anita’s not dumb, even though she can play that part if needs be. She knows he’s seeing other women, and just because you’re not her biggest fan doesn’t mean she deserves to be treated poorly, by him or anyone else.

The thing is, you realize suddenly, even though he is likely in the wrong, you are still going to take his side in the end because he’s your friend. And that thought surprises you a little bit. But at the same time, there is anger starting to simmer in your chest at his poor behavior, at the way he keeps some of the women in his life hanging, waiting with bated breath to see if they will be the one to win his undying and singular attention.

You, of course, know better. Elvis is needy and fickle and loves being adored by as many women as possible. If there is one thing he’s addicted to, it’s girls. But he would no sooner give up his freedom to love as many of them as possible than he would to give up his career. Not to say that he doesn’t genuinely care for some of them; in fact, he is overly loving and demonstrative in some ways. It’s just that the standards for his love seem different than anyone else’s, and he gets away with things he might not otherwise because of who he is. But in your experience, the girls all figure it out eventually, and it seems like Anita is finally getting there.

It sounds like she is giving Elvis the business about it, which he doesn’t like one little bit.

“Why can’t you be sweet instead of bitchin’ like an old naggin’ ass wife, huh?” you hear him say, a little viciously, your eyes going wide. “I can’t stand that, I can’t stand it. Baby, you’ve got me crazy, you know that? You get worse a-all the damn time, a-and th-th-that’s why I don’t talk to you on the phone.”

You really, really should leave and get your nose out of his business, but it’s like you’re incapable of getting your feet to move. You’re mad at him for speaking this way to her, even though she likely IS nagging, you know it’s for good reason. She is right. He wants to have his cake and eat it, too, and he does not like being called out on it.

You hear him backtracking now, almost wearily telling her how much he loves her, over and over. The man doth protest too much. And the way his stutter pops up now, it sounds more like a child covering a fib than agitation. But you hate to assume.

“I told ya that I’m in love with ya. I-I-I-I-I-if I—if I—if I didn’t love you, I tell ya, I wouldn’t waste my time with you. I don’t have to,” he rebounds bluntly, harshly, then recovers quickly, “Well, I-I look forward to being with you, and I-I think about you a lot. But because I don’t call you three or four times a damn week, you say to me ‘Why don’t you…?’” His nastiness gets the better of him again, as he starts to mock her, but then he stops, his frustration evident. “Aw, HELL. I tell ya how I felt aboutcha, you oughta know how I feel. I mean, three long years, w-we’ve been battling this back and forth this same thing. You know I love you, darlin’.”

It all sounds rather unconvincing to you, as he seems to bounce so quickly from one emotion to the other. Maybe he believes it, you think, but you don’t think she’s buying it, not by the way he continues to reassure her, nearly pleading in some moments, and calling her pet names before that indignant tone returns to his voice. Even from out here, you can feel just how hard he’s trying to be patient, trying to placate her, with the many declarations of his love.

Silence falls for a moment, and you wonder what she must be saying to him, whether she’s falling for this or if she’s just as disbelieving as you are. You think she might be coming around based on how his voice changes yet again, how he’s both gentle and matter of fact, then his tone becomes almost boyish and sad.

Suddenly, you hear footsteps coming down the hall towards you. In a complete panic, you nearly jump out of your skin before looking around frantically for an escape. Desperate, you fling yourself into the room across the hall, but in your excitement, the door slams behind you.

Your hand pops to cover your mouth, as if this action alone will have kept anyone from hearing the door.

There is silence for a moment before you hear Elvis shouting, muffled, “Cliff? Cliff!”

Your heart thunders in your chest as you chastise yourself for being so damn stupid as to be eavesdropping on Elvis of all people, then you say a silent prayer that no one finds you as you hear more footsteps and another door slam. The footsteps head away, and with shaking breaths, you slowly open the door to find the hallway empty once more.

You tell yourself you are gonna skedaddle right out of there and go on with your business, but then you hear Elvis lay into her yet again:

“I-I-I love you very much a-and q-quit-quit-quit bitching and nagging me so much. I get so mad, I could break your neck.” That takes you aback, the way he just throws the phrase at her before going back to imitating her meanly, “’I can’t help it, I can’t help it! I can’t help it!’” W--w-w-w-what are you gonna do when I’m nuts and in an asylum?” Then he mumbles something you can’t understand but you hear him chuckle before he sighs big and loudly.

He's telling her he loves her but in a way that makes it obvious that he wants off the phone. She’s not having it based on the silence from his end.

Then he’s back to talking real nice and low to her, seemingly contrite and sorry, his stutter emphasizing it all. The stutter gives him away, you think, though you aren’t sure if it’s more agitation at her or that he’s feeling guilty. Perhaps it’s both.

“Well, m-maybe I’m not doing my part right now, but I mean give me a chance, you know. Just give me a chance. Don’t-don’t-don’t worry, j-j-just give me a chance, I-I, it’ll all come out in the long run. Okay? Take my word for it, hon, I wouldn’t lie to you. I love you, Anita.” A pause and then he giggles, “I’ll enjoy it. I love you very much darlin’. I do, Anita, I do…w-w-w-why would I lie to you, baby? I-i-if i-i-i if I’m l-l-l-lying…” he says, his stutter so bad now it’s hard to understand anything he’s saying.

You internally scoff at this. He’s been lying to her for years. But part of you wonders if he truly believes it will all turn out for them in the future. He is something of an idealist, after all. Maybe he really does fear losing her. Maybe that stutter is betraying his nerves rather than his guilt.

You aren’t sure how you feel about the prospect of him actually settling down, especially with Anita. For one, you don’t think it’s in his nature, but two, something about him doing it turns your stomach. You can’t pinpoint why, exactly, but the idea of him being married with little ones running about Graceland makes you want to scream.

You quickly push that thought out of your head, convincing yourself that your broiling frustration at him has more to do with his treatment of Anita than anything else. If he loves her and needs her so much, maybe he should just tell her the truth. You continue to listen in as he talks baby talk to her and emphasizes just how much he really will call her more, and then you hear him yawn.

“Hell, I’m tired. Oh, yeah. You do? You do? Well don’t sound so damn serious. How much you love me? How much you love me? Maybe? Baby? I love you. I love you. I wish, I wish, I wish I was with you,” he says, weary and tired of the conversation. There are long moments of silence, and you wonder what she is saying or if she’s hung up on him.

“I gotta go. There ain’t no party, I just gotta go. I’ll talk to ya later. I will. Don’t throw up more ideas…” He starts that terrible imitating of her again, “’I can’t! I can’t help that!’ I could slap your face right off.” He laughs through the rest now, and you know him well enough to know he’s being an asshole, provoking her. You can practically hear her shouting through the receiver, she’s yelling so loud.

“I think you’ve lost your damn mind. Yeah, ya have,” he says gently, quiet but cutting. Then he continues to chuckle, seemingly finding her agitation amusing. “Well…we’ll see. I’ll talk to ya later. Okay? Okay? Take care honey, be patient. Alright. Take it easy. Bye.” You hear the receiver click as he finally hangs up the phone.

You’re fuming now, a bit off the rails considering none of this has anything to do with you, and you know it. The gall of him to behave that way when he knows he’s in the wrong, that he is lying to her. For god’s sake, he is having a party right now and there are girls here that you know were invited by him for a particular purpose, and he’s over here telling Anita how tired he is and how crazy she is when she is right all along.

The now-small logical part of your brain is screaming at you to leave and to get your nose out of his business before you do something stupid, but instead you listen to Elvis as he lets out a huge sigh that ends in a frustrated growl.

“Who in the hell is out there lurking in the hallway?” you hear him shout out of nowhere.

Shit.

Your heart pounds, knowing you are caught, and you are mad enough that you refuse to run away. You take a deep breath instead, pushing the door open slowly.

Elvis looks up through his dark lashes from behind the huge mahogany desk, his hands steepled and his jaw set. Surprise flashes over his features when he lays eyes on you, his left eyebrow shooting up, but his eyes quickly return to a steely blue, hardening.

“How much did you hear?” There’s no preamble, no beating around the bush, no charming quip.

You consider lying for a moment. “Enough,” you finally say, knowing lying would be futile—he knows you well enough to see through your deceit. You are angry enough at him for it to show on your face.

“Hmmm. Mmm hmm,” he tuts, seemingly disappointed in you, his anger still simmering just below the surface. “What the fuck were you thinkin’, listening to my private conversation?” It comes out frighteningly low and biting.

You open your mouth to speak, but before anything gets out, he’s yelling, “What is it with the goddamn women in my life sticking their noses where they don’t belong?!” You cannot help but flinch at his outburst, even as angry as you are.

Elvis gets up so fast and so violently the rolling chair he’s sitting in flies backwards, hitting the bookshelf behind him. Rounding the desk, he advances on you, and you stumble, countering by stepping back. With his dark hair and flashing eyes, his features both soft and severe all at once, his natural beauty is intimidating.

Already angered by his conversation with Anita, he is teetering right on the edge of fury, on that blinding temper of his. Which is why you have no idea what comes over you next.

“So, how’s Anita?” you ask sardonically. A small part of you is hoping that your sarcasm will deescalate the situation. It does not. More likely, for whatever reason, you have this urge to push him right over the edge. He’s never turned his temper on you before, and his temper can be blindingly terrible, yet still you persist.

“Don’t be insolent. It doesn’t become you, y/n,” he seethes, his soulful eyes now a churning, hard, steely blue, like the northern Atlantic during a storm.

You continue anyway, “You should just tell her, E. She obviously suspects what you’re doing, wouldn’t it just be easier—"

“I didn’t ask for your fuckin’ opinion!” he shouts at you. Your heart begins to pound in your ears, along with the ringing of his voice, but you are stubborn as hell and pissed off, too, so despite all the warning bells, you keep going.

“You’re right, you didn’t, but I’m telling you anyway as your friend and as a woman who knows—and more so because no one else will dare to call you on it—” you shoot at him, trembling with anger, “Being cheated on and then being lied to and made to feel crazy about it when you know something is wrong is awful. That’s why she’s nagging you all the time. You are making her feel crazy. You should either tell her or leave her, Elvis, but this isn’t right.” You let out a breath, your body hot with anger and you are surprised at your boldness.

“Aw, hell, y/n, you gonna be bitchin’ and naggin’ now, too, huh?” he barks, his eyes flashing.

More words, ones you didn’t expect to speak, come rolling off your tongue. “Why are you hanging on to her if you are just gonna constantly screw around behind her back? How can you really love her and do that to her? You have to know after all this time that she wants you to marry her, but I think we both know that’s not going to happen, is it? What exactly is the point of all this, then, Elvis?”

You expect him to scream at you again and you brace for it. But instead, he steps closer, cornering you. Anger is rolling off him in waves but now it’s tempered by something else, too. Something heavy and thick that starts to suck the air from the room as his deep eyes lock onto yours, unwavering.

“Why y/n, you sound almost jealous.” It comes out smooth, too smooth, with a dark chuckle as he takes one more bold step into you. Your back hits the wall, breath catching at the insinuation.

“W-what? No,” you eek out defensively, in a voice far too high for your liking. You feel your cheeks flush. You know objectively what he’s trying to do, distract and deflect blame for his situation off him and onto you. It’s manipulative but effective because you are flustered beyond repair now.

And maybe because there’s a little truth to it, that small voice from earlier adds. Though you have no idea how Elvis may have pulled that deep thought, one that you barely acknowledged yourself, from the deep recesses of your brain.

Faltering under the pressure of his gaze and the closeness of his lean body practically pressing up against yours, you try to skirt around him.

He slams his hand onto the wall next to your head and you wince as his arm blocks you in. You’re breathing hard now, feeling something between shock and fear and exhilaration as his beautiful face comes too close to yours, forcing you to turn back to him.

Elvis will not be ignored.

“I’m not sure I believe you, baby,” he purrs. “Why else would you be snooping into my private romantic business?” His nose almost grazes your face, tantalizing, the scent of his Old Spice filling your nostrils, consuming you. You realize you’ve never been this close to him, not like this.

Maybe there’s a good reason for that.

Your heart drops into your stomach, but you roll your eyes. “Don’t be ridiculous,” you respond, glaring at him. It sounds almost convincing.

Elvis chuckles meanly, not believing you, his lip curling into a grin, but the smile doesn’t meet his eyes. He’s a panther stalking his prey, and you have come crashing into the jungle, demanding his attention. 

His wrath is laced with something fervently sexual, and anything sexual coming from Elvis is ten times what it might be from another man. It’s intoxicating in the worst way possible, clouding your thoughts, distracting you from your frustration at his behavior. It’s as though, over time, he’s learned to wield his charismatic essence and his sexual energy into a weapon, one which he is now turning on you.

You realize you are in way over your head, but you’ve left yourself no room to backpedal out of this.

Elvis’ icy eyes roam over your face. For a moment you think he might close the gap between you two and press those pillowy lips to yours. For a moment you allow yourself to wonder if they feel as soft as they look, if they taste as sweet as you imagine.

What would he do if it were you that closed the gap? Would he be shocked out of his rage and pull away? Or would he kiss you back? Would you want him to?

Guilt washes over you, a cold shock, in response to these thoughts. What in the hell is wrong with me today?

But right now, cornered as you are, you feel like you might do almost anything to get out of this intense limbo he has you trapped in. You decide to call him out and see what happens.

“Oh, please, Elvis. Does this bull work on all the girls?” you hum almost nonchalantly, even though your heart is galloping, but it has the desired effect. He bites his tongue and shakes his head, leaning back from you. “What, you think you can just try and beguile me, of all people, and I’ll forget about what a jerk you’re being?”

“That’s not—,” he begins, through gritted teeth.

“Oh, shut it,” you interrupt, even more mad now after calling him out on his bad behavior for the second time. “I have half a mind to call Anita up myself after the stunt you just pulled!”

“The hell you will!” Elvis growls, eyes heated, yanking you by the arm towards the desk. “I’ll teach you what happens when you stick your nose where it don’t belong.”

~

You yelp in surprise as he pulls you over. It all happens so fast; you barely resist because your brain doesn’t comprehend what’s happening until he’s planted himself on top of the desk and bends you over his knee.

“Elvis, what are you…?” you yell. He cannot be serious, there is no way he will—

The first smack hits your backside hard. You choke in shock, not just at the sting but at his audacity. You are frozen, speechless, until you realize he’s aiming to do it again. You try to wriggle off his leg, flailing your arms for purchase, but he is much stronger than you. His arm clamps down on your back, holding you fast.

“Elvis!” you shriek at him, “Don’t you even think about—!” The second smack lands harder than the first, on the other cheek, and you squeal, kicking your legs.

“You gonna stay outta my business, y/n?” he asks.

“Goddamnit, Elvis!” you hiss, trying to glare back at him, but he holds you fast.  

“Takin’ that as a ‘no’,” he muses, and you can hear the smirk in his voice as he brings down his hand again. You yelp again, then grit your teeth. He’s not going easy on you, though you are absolutely sure he’s not anywhere at full strength, either. He’s not truly trying to hurt you. While your dress is softening some of the blow, it still smarts, sending your eyes watering.

You are livid, but much to your shock, you are also finding yourself exhilarated, stimulated. Your heart races and you have no idea what’s gotten into you. It’s like everything you’ve done in the last thirty minutes—poking your nose in where it didn’t belong, becoming so angry at him, pushing all of his buttons on purpose—was some strange way to get here. Not that you knew, not at all, that this would be your punishment, but it was almost as if you were crying out for his attentions all along.

This realization stuns you into stillness, and you barely register him talking to you again.

“I can do this all day, y/n, until you tell me what I need to hear,” he says in a sing-song voice. He’s enjoying it, his anger still there, but no longer at the forefront of his intent. No, now he is entirely focused on getting you to cry uncle.

You are stubborn and silent, though still reeling with confusion from your realizations of what got you here, slung over Elvis Presley’s knee, and that you, too, might be enjoying this, but in all the wrong ways. When his hand slaps your ass this time, you bite back the sound that wants to come forth, because it is no longer one of shock. Never in a thousand years do want to admit that you are relishing the feel of his hand on you like this, that the sting is having the opposite effect of what he wants or what either of you expects. It is wrong in so many ways.

Your lack of response must confuse him because you feel him hesitate in the slightest. You are unsure what comes over you, other than the impulse that you don’t actually want him to stop, which means he definitely should stop, but you can’t let him know why and instead it all comes out jumbled. The intended, “Elvis, please don’t!—Stop!” somehow (perhaps a little less than subconsciously) turns into a breathless, pleading for him to continue, “Elvis, please…don’t…stop.”

And though you feel his leg tense under you slightly, the only outward indication that he takes it any other way, he indeed does not stop. You squirm at the last second, realizing your mistake. And when his hand lands this time, fingers splayed wide, he hits decidedly lower and more centered than before. There is no way to know if it is purposeful or accidental, not that it matters in this moment because you cannot help the way your fingers dig into his thigh and the embarrassing moan that escapes your lips when he slaps your center along with your ass.

There is no denying what that sound meant. There’s no way to play it off or pretend it didn’t happen. You are fully aroused and completely mortified.

And Elvis knows it. You know he does by the way he stills, how his other hand clenches your dress at your waist, how you can feel his chest heaving along with your own in the thick, heavy silence that comes after.

For a moment, you wonder if he will push, if he’ll try to continue under the guise of this insane game, and a shameful part of you almost wants him to, wants to see how far you’ll both go, but that thought is fleeting.

~

He releases you, and you scurry off his lap as though he is on fire. And he might as well be with that tell-tale twinkle burning in his crystalline eyes, which are no longer stormy with anger but brimming with amusement and surprise and curiosity and heat. Then, as if he can’t help it, those pink lips pull up into a wide, cheeky smile, his tongue peeking out between his teeth and the tip touches his top lip. The look is somewhere between bashful and positively sinful.

You smooth your dress frantically with your hands, your face burning. Flustered beyond repair, you swipe at your watering eyes, feeling the heat scorch through your body. You are so utterly embarrassed that you could cry. Neither of you speaks at first (what in god’s name can you say??), but Elvis starts to giggle—giggle—that hiccupping little laugh of his that you know will spiral into a fit if he really gets going.

“Don’t you…don’t you dare laugh at me, Elvis Presley!” you sputter and stamp like a child, pointing at him, but his face is going red now and he’s starting to lose it.

“I’m-I’m n-n-not! I just c-can’t…” he stutters before he erupts into full blown belly laughs.

“Oh, my god,” you cry, bringing your hands to your face. You are both livid at him and mortified at yourself, but the situation is completely ridiculous and his laughter becomes contagious. “I swear to god, this isn’t funny!” you wail, fighting back your own laughter.

This just sends him into fresh peal of laughing, and he doubles over.

You finally break down, laughing, too. “Shut up!” you yell, but all the sting is out of it with your own giggles. “This is all your fault!”

“MY fault?!” he cries, trying to catch his breath, tears leaking from his eyes.

You don’t have an answer to that. You know it’s very much on both of you, especially you.

Finally, the laughter starts to die down and you both are wiping at your eyes and catching your breath. Silence starts to hang heavy again, but you break it with ferocity.

“Let’s just pretend that none of this ever happened, okay? I’ll forget everything I heard, and you’ll forget…the rest of it, and we’ll never, ever speak of this again,” you say seriously, with conviction. “Deal?”

As absurd as the whole situation is, you both know there are very real consequences, for both of you, if any of what’s transpired leaves this room. The problem is you know he can be terrible at keeping secrets; however, there is no way for him to tell yours without exposing himself. You can see him work through this now that he is calmed down, his blue eyes regarding you carefully.

You force yourself to remain steady under his intense gaze, trying your best to ignore the way your body wants to involuntarily respond to him all the sudden. You need him to know how serious you are because if this somehow got back to Jack, or to anyone at all, you would be humiliated at best and divorced at worse.

Maybe that’s a little dramatic, you think, but it wouldn’t be good for anyone. But it lights enough panic in you to get your head on straight.

“I’m serious, Elvis. Not a word from either of us,” you reiterate, as Elvis’ face has become unreadable. Your body still feels hot and you will your heart to slow, praying that he’ll give you the answer you need so you can get the hell out of here.

After what feels like an eternity, he finally nods, “Not a peep.” He purses his lips and mimes locking them and throwing away the key. You want to roll your eyes, but instead breathe a sigh of relief. You turn, quick on your heel to leave, needing as far away as possible from this whole situation. Far away from him.

“Y/n?” he calls out from behind you as you reach for the door.

Your heart drops into your stomach and you brace yourself for a quip. You turn, not expecting to see the apologetic look on his face that you do. It’s almost childlike in its sincerity, his eyes big and mournful.

“I-I’m sorry I lost my temper. I-I-I shouldn’t have put my hands on you like that,” he says, playing with his ring nervously.

Your jaw nearly drops to the floor. An apology is not at all what you were expecting. You blink a couple of times, your whirlwind of emotions calming for a moment.

“Thank you, E. And I’m sorry for sticking my nose where it didn’t belong. It really is none of my business,” you add, cheeks warming again as you look down, feeling embarrassed for all the reasons, feeling exposed under his gaze.

“Naw, baby, you’re just callin’ it as you see it. You’ve never pulled punches with me, and I don’t expect you to start now,” he replies, lip curling up in a smile.

You nod. “Even so, I’ll do my best to refrain from spying on you in the future.”

“Okay,” he says.

“Okay.” You turn and leave before he has a chance to stop you again. Hurrying to the bedroom you are sharing with Jack, you lock yourself in, lean back on the door, and slide to the floor with your head in your hands.

What in god’s name came over you? Why would you do such a thing? And why in the hell did you like it when he touched you like that? Panic and guilt run through your veins like ice. You push all the thoughts away, as deep and as far as they will go.

Not a word. Pretend this never happened. Nothing is wrong if it never happened.

You repeat it in your head until it sticks.

*

Carrying the black folder with your sheet music, you take a deep breath and take a seat on the stage behind the curtains that hide the backstage from the audience. You’ve never been backstage for one of his shows, and it is bustling with musicians. Your job tonight is to follow along with the Sweet Inspirations and see if you can find your footing in the music while the show is happening. With the volume on stage, no one should be able to hear you from out front.

Nerves flow through you, nevertheless. It’s been a crazy three days with the vocal coach, who has assured you that, yes, you have the capability to do this and are “a natural,” but that you need to work through your stage fright. You’re not sure if it is her idea or Elvis’ to put you backstage during a performance, but here you are, your heart pounding as though you were going on stage with the rest of them.

In those three days, you haven’t seen Elvis alone, either. This has made you incredibly uneasy for a variety of reasons. Part of you is glad because you feel like your head is clearer about the whole affair, that you have some semblance of control, that if you want to end it (and you should) that you can.

However, another part of you craves his attention, missing him desperately, worried that he’s gotten what he wants from you and now is moving on. You keep thinking about how if he’s not spending his nights with you who might be keeping his bed warm instead. This fear is beginning to wreak havoc and is at odds with your logical thoughts. You know you need to get over it, to get over him, that all of this is just for fun anyways. It’s just sex. Nothing other than that was ever promised. He’s free to do what he wants with who he wants.

It's not as though you haven’t seen him, though, it just hasn’t been alone. Between your lessons, his schedule, and Jack seemingly looming everywhere, it’s been hard to steal any time away. As soon as you told Jack you were staying, that Elvis was offering you a job as part of the show, you couldn’t quite get a read on how he felt about it. Jack seemed surprised, a little annoyed, and wary when you told him. You were sure he wouldn’t want you around anymore, but instead he has been more attentive than usual, which has also thrown you for a loop. You don’t know if he suspects something might be going on, but he hasn’t been off cavorting until all hours of the night anymore, instead staying with the guys at the after party every night in Elvis’ suite.

In any case, all you and E have had are a couple of fleeting, longing looks and the occasional touch, which is maddening. He did come to one of your lessons, but remained professional in front of the coach, only giving you a quick peck on the cheek and left a lingering hand at your waist, burning through your dress and threatening to set you aflame right there and then.

During the after parties, where the gang, plus a lucky group of fans (usually pretty, young things), would come up and join you all. You smiled your way through the gatherings trying to appear as normal as possible as the girls flirted endlessly with Elvis, and he flirted back at them. Not to mention the way Jack would look at the girls, too. The whole situation was becoming untenable.

Thank god for Sandy, who always seemed to be there when you needed her, with a squeeze of a hand or a bump of your shoulder, stealing away with you to the bathroom when it all became too much.

But, lucky for you, you at least had a distraction of learning all the music for the show, hence why you are here now, amongst the fervent energy that is building backstage. The Sweet Inspirations just finished their set, and now everyone is waiting on the man of the hour.

You finally see him round the corner, clad in his black herringbone suit, the one you find impeccably flattering on him. He looks gorgeous but is vibrating with nervous energy and seems like he could be sick at any moment, his eyes focused on something only he can see. Involuntarily, you rise out of your chair in his presence, wanting to go to him, to comfort him, but you stop yourself. It isn’t your place, and you don’t want to distract him or possibly make his nerves worse.

Much to your surprise, Elvis seems to sense you, turning to you, and his cobalt eyes light up when they meet yours. He switches gears, much to the surprise of some of the guys, and walks towards you. They don’t follow, which you are glad for. You meet him, desperately wanting to pull him in for a kiss, but everyone seems to be watching. His eyes travel over your face, needy under the fear he’s experiencing.

“You’re here,” he says gratefully, as though it is a surprise that you actually showed up.

“I’m here,” you reply. “How are you feeling?”

“Nervous. But better now,” he says, those big blue eyes blinking at you with an almost shy smile.

“Me, too,” you laugh. God, you want to touch him so badly, it’s like an itch you can’t scratch.

“I miss you,” he whispers, and it nearly breaks your heart with the way it makes it swell in your chest.

“I miss you, too,” you nod breathlessly, “and we’ll talk later, but right now, you need to go out there and kick some ass, yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods, taking a deep breath, puffing his cheeks and letting it out slowly. He reaches out and grabs your hand, squeezing it tight, his huge rings cold against your skin. Then he turns abruptly, heads off, and cues the band to start.

Your heart is pounding in your chest. Seeing that side of him, so needy and small, is such a contrast to how larger than life he is as he walks on that stage. It reminds you so much of the young man he once was, so different from the cocky, self-assured man he can be today.

Then the show starts in earnest and you sit back down, realizing you have a job to do and can’t just moon over him the entire show. You do your best to follow the music, humming along, quietly finding the high harmonies to the songs you feel like you’ve heard a million times but are now experiencing differently because you are listening for other things.

You do notice that some of his jokes are falling flat and that the audience isn’t responding as enthusiastically as they could be. Elvis fights for their attention, being the consummate performer that he is, and you can tell he’s a bit ruffled by it.

By the end of the show, you’ve been swept up in the music and it feels like no time has passed, your nerves long forgotten. It’s an amazing feeling, really, as the crowd applauds and the curtain falls and everyone bustles with after-show energy. Even though you weren’t officially on stage, you still feel swept up in the high of it all and it’s invigorating.

Elvis, of course, is soaked with sweat, breathless as the swarm descends with compliments, though he doesn’t smile or seem to believe them even though he nods through them. You know he is a perfectionist in his own right and by his demeanor, he seems agitated by how the performance went. His eyes find yours only briefly, guarded, before he is hustled away. You hide your disappointment in collecting your music and instead focus your energy on conversing with some of the musicians as they pack up their instruments. The mood feels sour, dampened, as Elvis’ displeasure radiates even after he leaves. Your emotions are tumultuous, as you feel neglected, and you are glad when you see Sandy waiting for you so you can go up to the penthouse together.

“How’d it go?” she practically bounces. “How nervous were you?”

“Pretty nervous at first, but after the first song, I just kinda got swept up in the music. It was pretty remarkable, actually,” you reply. “Though E didn’t seem very happy with the show.”

She pulls you along, through the curtains and out into the hallway. “And how is…everything else?” she intones with a knowing look.

You sigh, shifting your music folder to the other arm, looking down. You hurry her along, away from prying ears. “He came up to me before the show and told me he missed me,” you whisper.

“Oooh, really? That’s good, right? Sometimes a man needs to know what he’s missing to really appreciate it,” she muses. “Do you miss him, too?”

“I don’t want to! But as soon as he was there in front of me, I felt like I was gonna come out of my skin to get to him. I’m just…having all these feelings I don’t know what to do with, San,” you fluster. “Every time I think I have a handle on it, something happens to remind me that I’m completely off the rails.”

“You’re not ‘completely off the rails’, y/n. You’ve just got it bad,” she says almost nonchalantly.

“Ugh! I’m desperate to see him alone, and seeing him but not being able to touch him or to do anything that might give us away is hard. Not to mention, all these girls hanging all over him is making me crazy, and Jack seems to be everywhere under foot all the sudden, which is even more maddening. Oh, I need to end this. I can’t keep doing this,” you whine.

“Listen to me, we are just gonna go upstairs and hang out with everyone just like normal, okay? And we’ll try to get you two alone at some point. I’ll talk to Jerry, okay?” Sandy says, grabbing you by the shoulders. “I’ve got your back.”

“Thanks, babe,” you sigh. “I’m fine, really.”’

Sandy side-eyes you as you both head up to the top floor.

The guys have procured yet another gaggle of women and a few men to join the party tonight. Jack has planted himself next to you, uncharacteristically putting his arm around you. Surprised, you try not to stiffen, reminding yourself that this is your husband and it’s totally normal for him to put his arm around you, but it feels more possessive than affectionate. Or maybe you are just imagining it.

You busy yourself making small talk as you all wait for Elvis to appear. When he does, freshly washed, the smell wafts over you, reminding you of your most recent escapades in the shower. You flush a little at that, hiding your face by taking a drink.

Elvis glances at you only momentarily as he enters. He seems a little off, you think, a little edgy, as he commands the room and finds a seat amongst the girls. Your jaw tenses as they fawn and fall all over him, and he flirts back as though he can’t help it. This makes you insane to watch for the third night in a row. All you can think about is his hands on someone else the way you want them to be on you.

And the more you want Elvis’ hands on you, you instead get Jack’s, which seem to be gripping you at all times in some way. Over your shoulder, on your knee, on your hand…you’re trapped in this tortuous hellscape where you would do anything to get him to stop touching you, but you can’t, you can’t without it giving yourself away.

You are equally trapped as you watch your lover give his attention to everyone but you. Every time Elvis laughs or smiles or his eyes sparkle flirtatiously, or if he touches one of them or when they touch him, you want to launch right out of your chair at him.

He wants them, you think. That’s why he hasn’t seen you the last few days. He’s been with other women.

The thought drips like poison into your heart, twisting it, filling you with anger and sadness.

Why would he want you when he can have any pretty young thing? No one wants you. No one chooses you. It drips again, icy and brutal.

All of it goes on for what feels like an eternity, and you want to scream, to cry, to escape, but you’ve made this bed and now are being forced to lie in it. It’s your punishment for all your misdeeds, you think. But your stomach is rolling with an ever-growing fury at Jack, at Elvis, at those girls, at yourself, and you start to squirm in your seat.

Finally, your jealousy gets the better of you. If Elvis won’t pay attention to you, then you’ll find someone else who will. It makes the most sense that it’s your husband, of course, who is already strangely attached to you tonight, so you bite your tongue and force yourself to return his affections instead of shirking from them. You lean into him, you put your hands on him, on his chest, his arm, his leg. You pretend it was like it was years ago, when you still both wanted each other more than anything. You throw yourself into the act because it takes your mind off the women across the room.

Jack is surprised, you can tell, but he’s not too far gone into the bottle and soon is returning your affections, pecking at your cheek and neck. After a while, when he whispers in your ear that he wants you, part of you is exhilarated, powerful, because finally your husband wants you again.

It’s in that moment when Elvis’ eyes find yours for only the second time since you’ve been here, those intense blues locking on as Jack’s breath tickles your ear. Elvis’ gaze darkens dangerously, and you watch his jaw clench as he watches you and Jack. And when Jack takes your hand, pulling you off the couch, you feel Elvis’ eyes burning holes into your back.

Finally, is all you can think. Finally, the men in your life are paying attention.

You are so wrapped up in this game, in your anger and your jealousy, that when Jack yanks you into the bathroom and locks the door behind him, you aren’t even upset about it. You want to be disgusted at him (and you are—you still hate him for what he’s put you through), but in this moment, he only has eyes for you and that’s all you want right now, even if it is misguided. Even if the love isn’t there like it’s supposed to be.

When he kisses you with his whisky-tinged breath, it almost feels like he cares. When he gropes you and touches your body in the places he thinks he knows will turn you on, you pretend that it does. You let yourself get swept into a fantasy, into the act, because at least it’s something to chase away all the terrible things you’ve done and all the terrible thoughts in your head.

When you grab at the straining erection in his pants, the heat of him burning into your palm, and hear his gasping moans in your ear, you feel powerful. As you sink to your knees, you relish the look of lust and surprise in your husband’s eyes, and it’s enough to keep you going, even though part of you is appalled. You take him into your mouth, closing your eyes, wishing he was someone else. Jack twists his hand in your hair as he leans against the counter, slack jawed, and you know this won’t take long. It makes it bearable. You’ve known him long enough to know exactly what to do: how to lick, where to touch, the noises you need to make. And you relish in the control you have as he comes undone in record time.

Jack is still gasping for breath when you stand, spitting what he left in your mouth in the sink and washing your mouth out. He grabs at your ass, panting, “Jesus, treasure, what’s got into you? That was fuckin’ hot.”

You shrug coyly at him in the mirror. “I gotta pee, sweetie,” you say, shooing him out, wanting him away from you. More than anything, you want to be alone to simmer in your anger and revulsion.

“Mmm, okay. Thanks, babe,” he hums, still obviously refracting, drunk on you rather than whisky for once. He kisses your cheek sloppily before zipping up and heading out. It doesn’t escape you that he didn’t even make an attempt to get you off. Not that he could, but it figures.

You look at yourself in the mirror, hair askew and cheeks red, eyes blazing. This is the woman I’ve become, you think bitterly. I’m either fucking my lover with my husband in the next room, or I’m sucking off my husband with my lover in the next room.

It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. You don’t recognize yourself anymore. You ache for Elvis, but you cover it with anger and jealousy and fear. You hate Jack for what he’s done to you, yet you fall into him and use him the first chance you get.

Rooting around in the drawers, you find some toothpaste and swish it around in your mouth, hoping, wanting to get the taste of Jack, the taste of your own bitterness out. You wash your hands and comb your hair, wondering if this was enough, if you can go back out there at watch Elvis with those women and not die a little inside.

Knock, knock.

The insistent rap on the door startles the hell out of you and you jump. “One second!” you shout with one last look in the mirror. You open the door quickly, not wanting to keep whoever is waiting, and walk out.

And you run smack into Elvis’ chest. You don’t even need to look up to know it’s him—at this point you know his physique and his scent anywhere. A little yelp escapes your lips, and you feel the heat, the anger rolling off him in waves. You gulp, raising your eyes to his and they are as hard and dark as you’ve ever seen them. Your heart jumps into your throat as he grabs you by the arm and yanks you across the hall, throwing you into his bedroom and slamming the door behind so hard that the wall shakes.

You stumble for a second in your heels but recover quickly, turning to face him. Elvis is furious, in that terrifying way you’ve seen before, nearly blacked out with rage. You can see him barely holding on, gripping to a sliver of sanity as he faces you, chest heaving.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doin’?” he seethes, his hands fisted and jaw clenching and unclenching, black hair tumbling over his forehead.

Your heart sprints in your chest and you unconsciously step backwards before you catch yourself and stop, lifting your chin at him. “I don’t know what you mean,” you say almost haughtily.

“The fuck you don’t,” he says, advancing on you. You scurry back again, putting the large couch in between the two of you. “You think I didn’t notice the way he was all over you and how you were all over him out there for everyone to see?? You think I didn’t know what was goin’ on when you left?? You think I didn’t see his fuckin’ face comin’ back into the room, grinnin’ like an idiot?!” he screams, grabbing a bottle of water off the coffee table and hurling into the wall.

You flinch as the bottle explodes, glass tinkling down to the floor. “Elvis, stop it! Calm down, everyone can hear you!” you hiss, trying to knock some sense into him, but he’s way beyond that.

“I don’t give a shit!” he yells. “How could you fuckin’ do that?” The rage and the hurt you see in his blacked-out eyes is more than you ever expected and tugs at your heart. But you are still furious in your own right, furious at him for this display, furious at the whole situation.

“How could I do what, E? What? Be with my husband? My husband? Or have you forgotten since the stunt you pulled the other day in the bathroom that I have one?” you throw back at him, “That I have to go back to my room every night to him, pretending like everything is fine? Did you forget that?”

You’re not even sure if he hears you with how gone he is. He rounds the couch, coming for you. Scrambling back, you find that you have nowhere to go, your back is against the wall. Reaching you, he grabs your face in his large hands, his intense eyes drilling into you. “I don’t ever want to see you looking at another man, touching another man. I’m a really jealous motherfucker, y/n. And I don’t ever, ever, ever want you to be with another man, I don’t care who he is. I want to know that you’re mine and all mine,” he heaves.

“Are you kidding me?” you say, wrenching out of his grasp. “How can you demand that of me when you know it’s not possible? I have to keep up the pretense of my marriage! And you think I don’t know that you’ve been with other women? It’s been three days, Elvis, I’m not an idiot!” He looks at you with a mix of dumbfounded innocence and rage. “Oh, don’t look at me like that. Maybe it was the girl in your lap just now or the one kissing you that gave it away!”

Elvis growls, shaking his head, staring down at you with those endless eyes. “You’re just fuckin’ jealous. You’re so jealous you went and fucked your husband in my bathroom to get my attention, is that it?” He slams his hand on the wall next to your head, but you refuse to react.

You know you shouldn’t say it, but he’s right and you know it. You did do it to get his attention, and now you have it. “No, baby, I didn’t fuck him. I just sucked him off and spit him out,” you say demurely, cutting, batting your eyes at him, knowing and not caring how awful you’re being.

The way his eyes widen betrays his shock, but he covers it quickly as they narrow. You wonder for a moment if you should be truly afraid because you have pushed him too far, but you almost don’t care. Part of you wants him to feel all of this, a fraction of the tumultuousness that you’ve been feeling for the last week.

“Hmmm…,” he hums, then clicks his mouth. His eyes are black and blazing as they pass over your body. This stillness is almost more frightening than the shouting. You shiver, trembling, but it’s just as much from your own anger as from his, and you can feel the fury laced with something else entirely. You refuse to back down or look away.

~

“You goddamn fuckin’ little brat,” Elvis finally snarls and yanks you with him to the couch. He slams down and pulls you over his knees, and suddenly, a memory from a long time ago flashes in your brain, one you had entirely pushed out of your mind. You choke on it as it floods back to you, knowing he must remember, too, knowing that everything is quite different this time around.

You gasp when Elvis pulls up your dress and yanks down your panties, the cold air of the room hitting your most sensitive areas. “Elvis! Elvis, don’t you dare, don’t you even--!” you shriek, writhing in his lap, not knowing if your words are protests or encouragements at this point.

When his open palm slaps your ass, the sound reverberates through the suite, the sting radiating down your thighs and sending water into your eyes. You gasp again, more from surprise than anything. Surprise that while it smarts, it doesn’t feel bad.

“Elvis,” you breathe out, wriggling in his lap.

He holds you to him. “Oh, don’t you ‘Elvis’ me. You’ve been an obstinate, naughty lil’ brat, and I ain’t havin’ it,” he says through gritted teeth before bringing his hand biting down onto the other cheek.

You hold back your cry, digging your nails into his thigh instead, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of a big reaction. Beyond the sting, you feel heat gathering in your belly, but you don’t want him to know that either.

“Seems ya need a lesson or two about how to behave, now don’tcha, you naughty lil’ girl?” he seethes, laced with a sneer. He brings down his hand again, and this time you can’t hold back the sound that emanates from your throat, a whiny moan.

“Ah, that’s what I thought,” Elvis purrs wickedly, rubbing your stinging skin with his fingers. You are completely at his mercy now, your frustrations unravelling under his touch. You buck in his lap, needing more, needing him to ease your toxic thoughts.

“Hmm, you like rilin’ me up? Like gettin’ me all worked up and jealous, huh?” He smacks your ass again, this time his fingers grazing your core. You moan fully now, unable and unwilling to contain it, tears running down your face, your heat building in the most confounding of ways.

“Answer me—didja pull that lil’ stunt on purpose, baby?” he asks, his hand reverberating on you again.

“Y-yes,” you breathe out.

“Yes, what?” he pushes, palming your ass, leaning down towards your ear, his breath hot.

It takes you a second in your haze to piece together what exactly Elvis wants, and once you do, it sends a delectable shiver down your spine. Once again, he never ceases to amaze you in how he can bring out pleasure in you that you never knew you craved or needed.

“Yes, Daddy,” you whine.

You hear him choke back a groan at that and next to your arm, you feel a twitch in his pants. You can’t help but smile.

“You wanted my attention, and now you’re gettin’ it, honey. Is that what you want?” he says, heat leeching from his voice.

“Yes, Daddy,” you breathe again.

He brings his hand down one more time with a grunt, and you cry out in pleasure and pain, ass raw but you are somehow feeling a release that you didn’t know you needed.

~

“Look at you, baby,” Elvis says, somewhere between pride and surprise, running a finger through your folds, which unbeknownst to you are dripping wet. You bite your lip at the contact, sucking a breath in. You want him to touch you, but instead he pulls you up to face him. You hiss at the feeling of your raw ass hitting the backs of your heels as you kneel on the sofa.

He takes your chin in his hand, forcing you to look at him, tears staining your cheeks. “I need ya to look at me, honey,” he orders. You do. His eyes are still dark, but his fury has been tempered by lust.

“You been waitin’ eight long years for me to do that, haven’t ya?” he murmurs. Of course, he remembers exactly how long it’s been.

Your heart flutters and you nod, admitting to yourself that it may have crossed your mind once or twice, in your most secret moments.

“Ain’t nobody else touched you like that, baby?” The way he asks it is almost laced with hope, hope that this is something of you that only he gets to have.

“Never,” you whisper, shaking your head, his hand still gripping your chin.

“Only me, huh? Good girl,” he says, pleased. He lets go of your chin, wiping the tears off your face with his thumb. Then he looks in your eyes.

“I need you to be truthful with me now, baby, yeah? Don’t just tell me what you think I want to hear. Do you want me to keep bein’ rough with ya? Are ya likin’ that? Because if you don’t, I’m gonna stop,” he asks, voice real low.

You appreciate him pausing long enough to ask you and you consider him for a moment, though it doesn’t take long. “Yes, I like it,” you say, surprising yourself with the truth of it.

That dark look flashes over Elvis’ face again, and it sends a thrill right through you.

“Okay, but you tell me if you need me to stop, promise?”

“Promise.”

“Good, cuz I don’t think you’ve learned your lesson yet and I’m still fuckin’ pissed,” he growls. Your heart plummets into your belly with excitement as you watch the sweetness drain from his eyes, replaced by his fervent anger from earlier.

And you smile.

**

Taglist:

@atombombbibunny @yesimwriting @uselessbutinteresting @mirandastuckinthe80s @dark-as-love

@domaniquessidehoe @im-lame-irl @allybrooke05 @hangmanswhore

@jazmin2211  @kvcssghbjbcd @coldonexx @dudinhahoff @whatstruthgottodowithit @tiredbuthappy  @amiets2  @saintmagx

@kvcssghbjbcd @butlersluvbot @babydollie43 @vainbimbo @meladollsims @wstelandbaby @dre6ming @normatural @ash-omalley @xcallmetaniax @galvz-42 @thejezebel @fullmetal-falcon @robinismywife @dre6ming @seaweedbrain00 @amiets2 @mslizziesblog @heisatroubleinapinksuit @calusussss @dont-feel-so-good-peter @rainydayz101 @pizzaisrelationshipgoals  

@liaaacantwrite @kittenlittle24 @kaitaesupremacy @butler-trouble @eliseinmemphis @russian-soft-bitch  @tattywood 

@sassanoe 

Reblogs, likes, comments + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!

[trillscienceofficer]

i just wanted to pop in and say i really enjoy seeing your posts on my dashboard even though im not a super frequent or consistent tumblr user. i always think your takes are so interesting and fun to read through whether i agree with them or not (i tend to agree, though) and it has genuinely widened my perspective on star trek and deepened my appreciation for it. i've also read a few of your works on ao3 and i just adore your writing style and the way you characterise whoever you write about. i don't really have a point or a question or anything else to say, i honestly just wanted to spread some kindness around and one of your posts came across my dashboard so here i am. hope your day is/has been good :)

sorry . this feels like making a heartfelt adieu and leave only to come back because i forgot my bag or something. i was going to add in the original ask that you introduced me to the femslash exchange which i will definitely be participating in next year, it was so fun and cool and even though of course, it was just chance that i happened to see specifically your reblog about it, im very grateful nonetheless, or at least pleased that it happened to happen! :]

This was such a lovely couple of asks to find in my inbox, it was very kind of you to send them, thank you so so much 🥺

I'm very glad to hear that my posts have helped you consider a different perspective on Trek, I definitely don't expect readers to agree with me all the time (I know I have idiosyncratic opinions!), and if people find my angle on it interesting then my tumblr presence is worth it. I am very flattered if it made you appreciate Trek more!! I'm also extremely flattered that you liked the fic of mine you've read, I recognize your url because your comments on AO3 have been so generous and kind. Hearing that you loved both characterization AND style is boosting my confidence so much!!

Also super glad you found out about the Femslash Exchange through one of my posts! It's my favorite yearly fandom event, and I've been participating since 2020. I'm stoked to hear you plan to sign up this year, I'll definitely be there too!

Thank you again for these asks, and I hope you have/have had a good day as well!!

[13eyond13]

Hii for the fandom ask game I'm shooting two of your questions right back at you because when you asked me them they made me immediately wonder about your answers, 23 and 25! Also: 1, 8, and 16!

omg thank you for so many asks!

23. The fandom you're curious about because of a mutual:

@stvlti posting on my dash about the new Scott Pilgrim anime got me curious enough to start watching it recently! I read those comics back in college and thought they were pretty great, as was the Edgar Wright movie. And the anime seems like a very good adaptation of it so far. Can't explain how funny it is as a Canadian to see Canada as the setting for an anime, either... I just feel like we have such a bland normie country to set things in, hahaha

I'm also getting very curious about a ton of different manga thanks to the recs I've received on my blog recently! (X)

25. A piece of advice for taking care of yourself in fandom spaces:

HMMM.

I think the main thing I get people asking me about here sometimes is how to make more friends in the fandom, especially when you're new and don't know anybody. I think the main bits of advice I have on that front is:

(1) I SWEAR YOU AREN'T BEING SNUBBED/INTENTIONALLY IGNORED, YOU'RE PROBABLY JUST NOT ON OTHER PEOPLE'S RADARS AT ALL

So follow a bunch of other bloggers in that fandom and interact with their blogs first! Like their posts, send them polite/friendly asks looking for their takes (this is especially easy to do when people reblog ask memes), and be brave enough not to go on anon when you do it so they can see your lovely face and actually potentially make a connection with you! Most people LOVE getting asks and are flattered when somebody else asks for their thoughts. If you're genuine with your interest it shouldn't take long for other people to start taking interest in you back.

Which leads to my second point of:

(2) MAKE SURE YOU ACTUALLY ARE POSTING THINGS ON YOUR BLOG ON A SEMI-REGULAR BASIS! People will probably click on your blog once you start interacting with them, and they will most likely only follow you back if you actually have stuff on your blog that shows your interests/personality/the kinds of things they can expect you to be posting on their dash! You can easily stock up a bunch of posts into a queue if you're worried about spamming the dash or don't want to be online 24/7 too, so it will keep your blog active without you actually having to be there all the time.

ALSO DO NOT HAVE TOO MUCH SHAME TO LITERALLY ASK YOUR FOLLOWERS TO SEND YOU ASKS. Reblog fandom ask memes, it's a great way to give people a template of questions to bug you nicely with, and answering one ask often leads to receiving another ask!

(3) DO YOUR OWN THING WHETHER OR NOT ANYBODY IS CONSTANTLY PATTING YOU ON THE BACK. First and foremost I'm usually making myself laugh here on my blog and hoarding all of these posts for myself, so even when I'm not getting constant feedback from others I'm still having a good time and posting on the regular! I'm SUPER glad that other people get something out of it too, but I think when it comes to blogging you should treat your blog like your own personal little kingdom where you are making the rules, and other people can follow or unfollow as they please.

And finally:

(4) YOU WILL EVENTUALLY LOSE A FOLLOWER OR TWO, BUT SO DO I AND SO DOES EVERYBODY ELSE. Try not to obsessively check your follower count or to take it as a huge calamity if your count goes down instead of up once in a while! It WILL eventually go back up again, and you genuinely have no idea why it dropped most of the time (it probably wasn't anything majorly personal - maybe somebody just is no longer in your fandom, maybe Tumblr is clearing out some porn bots, maybe a follower is deactivating their blog - or maybe you DID post something that somebody didn't like, but that's ok, it's probably better if they aren't following you anymore anyways!) And you should ALSO block/unfollow people freely if they're really making your blogging experience uncomfortable - at the end of the day you don't really know them and they don't really know you, and you will both probably move on and forget about it not too far down the road.

1. List 3 positive things about your current fandom(s):

(1) Genuinely extremely chill and cozy, and almost always has been in my experience!

(2) People have the best sense of humour here. IDK I think I took it for granted that all fandoms were like that but anytime I venture into other ones I find myself being a bit disappointed that people just aren't as funny in general a lot of the time

(3) OMG thank you everybody for all the delicious fanfic and fanart, and for continuing to still make it steadily even in 2023

8. You hope more people will come to appreciate ___ (a ship, a trope, an episode, etc.):

I'm gonna advocate for a ship I don't even have a ton of personal investment in and say meronia! God, stop sleeping on this pairing already and/or acting like it's way more problematic than it actually is, you silly ancient fandom you (no, they are not basically related, they simply went to the same school in their childhood for a bit). These two definitely deserve to have their relationship a bit better explored!

16. A tiny detail in canon that you want more people to appreciate:

Watari had an entire-ass family of his own, apparently!

Isn't that weird to think about? There is actually SO MUCH unanswered stuff about how his relationship with L actually was set up, especially if you are just going by the original manga serial and aren't using the one-shots or the anime or LABB novel to flesh out L's backstory or any Wammy's lore. And sometimes I think it might be neat to see people exploring it in totally different ways that would still be 100% plausible based on what little we know!

[ask meme]

[ill-say-anything-i-hafta]

I hope you dont mind me saying youre super cool and like im in awe youre talking to me but um yes what are your blink and skittery thoughts?? I have many probably not all fandom sanctioned lol

Thanks, I'm flattered! Also, you are like the third person ever to send me an ask so I'm pretty pumped. Here are my unvarnished thoughts on Blink and Skitts, two of my faves. What do they have in common? There are two of the older kids and they each have a chip on their shoulder.

I like Blink's big shirt and his moves. He is highly excitable. I think his friends like to rile him up, but they also take good care of him. He has no sense of humor, but is capable of great generousity. For personal reasons, I find it touching that blink is such a fan favorite. And sometimes I think about the real kid blink, who was surely a badass, but probably didn't have as hair that was quite as great.

Skittery has the coolest name of any newsie (and that's really saying something). He seems like a worrier who tries to be a good influence on the younger kids. He cares a lot about appearing to be chill. I bet he is one of those people who will hold a bunch of grudges until he explodes all of a sudden and scares you. That day of reckoning is surely coming for Racetrack.

I don't know why they cut either of these kings from the musical! I read somewhere that it could be dangerous for a professional dancer to perform in an eye patch, but mukeni nel is a great dancer so it sounds like bs to me.

[split-spectrum]

20 Questions for Fic Writers

Thank you for the tag @thegreatwicked :)

1. How many works do you have on AO3? Three

2. What's your total A03 word count? Just over 65K

3. What fandoms do you write for? Just Star Wars, right now.

4. What are your top five fics by kudos?

I only have 3 total fics 😅 but I'll list them in order of kudos:

Water and Rock - Obi Wan x Reader, slow burn with smut

Four Hours - Din Djarin x Reader, basically a one-off but in two chapters, porn with minimal plot

Pretty Young Thing - Obi Wan x Reader, one-off, porn with almost no plot

5. Do you respond to comments? Yes! I really appreciate people taking the time to comment, so I certainly want to let them know 💜

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? In the Star Wars fandom, I don't have any multi-chapters with endings, so I'll say Water and Rock since it contains the most angst lol

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Pretty Young Thing is just shameless wish fulfillment on my part lmao

8. Do you get hate on fics? This is so funny and I'm glad I get a chance to answer it - yes! I've written for several fandoms in the past and had mild criticism, and a long time ago there was actually ~drama within the same realm as my work, but not directed at me. However! I very nearly stopped posting after only two chapters in the Star Wars fandom because I immediately got an incredibly rude DM right off the bat. Honestly, it stung to the point I wasn't interested in sharing more. But after that, I received so many other kind comments it really turned things around and made me want to continue. I'm so grateful for all the sweet messages and comments you guys send. It makes it fun to share, which of course is what fanfic is all about :)

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Absolutely, yes. I write F/M currently although in the past I've also written M/M. I just don't feel as comfortable or good at it. I like vanilla stuff for the most part with some kinks, but I'm not really into BDSM or anything that includes violence beyond mild things.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? I have, but not for Star Wars. In a past fandom, I wrote a crossover for Futurama that was very fun. Nothing smutty, just for laughs.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Not that I'm aware. One of the funniest crimes, though, if you ask me. Not to anyone who's had a stolen fic. That must feel awful. But for the person stealing someone else's work and taking credit? What on earth could you be trying to accomplish with that?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Yeah, I had a 30-something chapter AU once upon a time that was completely translated into Russian. I didn't even find out until a few years later that it was on a Russian website with like a devoted readership and the translator giving author's notes on what they felt I was trying to convey in certain chapters. It was overwhelmingly flattering, but also strange that the translator never tried to reach out to even speak to me about it lol. Still, an amazing feeling, that someone enjoyed my writing enough to translate it for others. Gets me choked up 🥲

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Yes, I was once a part of a 4-person google doc collab for a fic and it was unbelievably fun.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship? All TIME? That is a tall order. I have to cheat and give multiple answers, I'm so sorry. I think it was @pickleprickle who mentioned Diana×Worf from Star Trek TNG and I absolutely love them.

Ben and Leslie from Parks & Rec.

A niche mention, but: Aloy and Kotallo from Horizon Zero Dawn (the videogame). I am OBSESSED with their dynamic and clawing, gnashing, biting, etc that it's not canon.

And since I just finished the Chiss Ascendancy Trilogy: Thalias and Samakro girlies please rise up, I am so in love with them 😭

15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Speaking of Thrawn... still have a fic with him on the back burner, and I don't ever know that it will get posted.

I also have a smutty Obi Wan one-off that was started ages ago, like 4-5 months ago or something and I'm about 50% sure it won't get finished but I really really want to. I keep coming back to it but never finishing which is VERY ironic considering it's... uh... it's edging.

16. What are your writing strengths? I feel like my answer to this could change based on the time of day lol but I will say I feel strongest when writing dialogue and I've had the most compliments regarding characterization.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? Oh, where to begin? 😄 I definitely suffer from the classic overuse of commas. My setting descriptions leave a lot to be desired, and I really wish I made more use of similes. I once had my work described as "clinical" regarding an interaction between two characters. I like to think I've learned and grown since then, but I still find myself jealous of people who are skilled with real, fleshed out, poetic descriptions.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic? All depends on the writer. I know people who are amazing at it, and it comes off as natural. Myself? Not so much. And I wouldn't care to attempt it, tbh.

19. First fandom you wrote for? Listen... it was a long time ago...

Inuyasha 🧍

20. Favourite fic you've ever written? My all-time favorite is from an old fandom I don't particularly like to engage with anymore, and it's sadly no longer posted for that reason. I will say my current favorite fic is Water and Rock and I can't wait to post the next update. :)

No pressure tags! @cosmicsierra @djarins-cyare @grapenehifics @firstofficerwiggles @spicemaidenfic @eveningserenityyy

[sangcreole]

HOW TO INTERACT WITH TUMBLR RP BLOGS

Hello friends! I've gotten quite a few non-rp blog followers on this account— thank you, and I'm flattered that you love Louis enough to follow me here! However!!! This is a ROLEPLAY blog, and as such, there is a slightly different etiquette code than regular tumblr fandom blogs.

Normally I just block folks who don't read my rules, but I figured I'd make this comprehensive post for archival reasons anyway. So! What are the do's and don'ts of tumblr RP etiquette?

DO: read our rules! Every rp blog has them! Mine are linked in my pinned post! You can also find them here! Rules are different for every single rp blog, so it's important to read them to understand what kind of interactions they're comfortable with

DON'T: REBLOG OUR WRITING!!!!! DO NOT REBLOG FROM RP BLOGS PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF CHRIST, THIS IS THE MOST IMPORTANT RULE.

The first reason this is considered rude is because roleplay writing is NOT for you. is it cool to read an rp blog's threads and cheer from the sidelines? absolutely! I LOVE getting little messages from people following along and commenting on what makes them excited! But rp is a contained writing format between two people, so taking someone else's writing and putting it on your blog is just....not good! it's not like reblogging fanfic! it feels more like stealing!

The second reason this is considered rude is because rp blogs on tumblr use the notes system to track our writing threads and other activity. when people reblog from us, it fucks up the note count (deadass some of y'all almost made me delete this fucking account when one of my amc salt posts got out and i had like 200 notes to wade through overnight. please don't do it).

There may be certain exceptions to this rule— for example, on my rules page, I state that I'm okay with folks reblogging my non-writing related content (aesthetic photos, musings, etc.). But for the most part...reblogs are kinda off-limits

DO: send in questions from headcanon/character building prompts! Basically, any question set that's meant to be answered out of character, referring to Louis rather than me writing as Louis. Here are some examples of what I mean: x, x, x

DON'T: send in in-character sentence starters meant for other rp blogs! Whats a sentence starter? Here are some examples! (x, x, x) Basically, any prompt that is meant to be sent in FROM ANOTHER RP BLOG, to be replied to in-character on my part. If you send me an anonymous message with a line of dialogue from a sentence starter, I can't do anything with that, because I don't know who my writing partner is supposed to be. These are for established character blogs only.

DO: send in random questions or comments! I do love interacting with y'all and I don't want you to be intimidated by all the rules I just laid out! If you have a question for Louis, please feel free to ask him and I'll reply in-character! If you have a question you want me to answer ooc, feel free to ask it! As long as you're respectful, it's all good!

[foibles-fables]

Hey! I saw your tweet earlier. I’m sorry you (and many others here) seem to keep receiving so much hate. I’m writing this to send you some love because you deserve it! Thank you for always being a beacon of light in the Horizon fandom. The stuff you write and post always bring a smile to my face. Loved all your comments about Call of the Mountain.

I feel bad about the current state of this fandom. I knew we had some bad apples, but I guess I underestimated them. I know we will eventually bounce back, once the homophobes shut up for good and some of the weirdos calm down a bit. We’ll have our peaceful little corner of the internet again.

And that will only happen thanks to people like you, meg-noel-art, and many others who, somehow, always manage to keep things light and fun. As they should be.

PS: This the first ask I send you and I’m sorry for never commenting or saying much. English is not my first (or even second) language, and I am a little shy. I’m more of a lurker, I guess. Also, seeing all the recent attacks might have made me crawl further into my little comfort safety zone lol.

PPS: Full disclosure: my main horizon ship is Ereloy. However, I absolutely love everything you and meg-noel-art post about Talanoy. I try to like and reblog everything I see. Though I always low-key shipped them, since ZD, I guess I’m almost completely converted now because of you. I, too, miss Talanah lol Also, for some reason, the DLC only made me ship them harder. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sorry for the long message and thank you, again! Cant' wait for the focus network fanzine!

Oh my goodness--thank you SO MUCH for this kind ask. Seriously, this made me smile so much after a ridiculous day, and I appreciate it more than you can even know! Totally flattered you've enjoyed being around and have liked all the silliness I've put out--seriously, my heart is so full <3 <3 <3

The fandom is definitely going through A Moment. And honestly, the gross mainstream homophobia and the shipping gatekeeping/discourse alike are starting to get pretty exhausting. But I'm definitely trying my best to do as you said--to be a beacon for the fandom--until things calm down! Because they absolutely will. We've carved out a nice space, and when everything settles, the peace will return.

Again, I'm so grateful that you decided to reach out! Keep on enjoying your fave ships, and I truly hope you love the zine! Lots of great stuff coming up :) have THE BEST day and please take care!!!

[morallyinept]

Jett! You seem like such a delightful human and firstly I just wanted to offer you an internet hug for being lovely. (If you like hugs. If not, then have a super-cool fist bump.)

Also, I feel like you are a good person to have thoughts on this so I wanted to ask for your advice? Thoughts? A gentle kick in the tail, maybe? about actually getting into the fandom. I’m a chronically anxious longtime lurker who chickens out every time I think about posting my writing or interacting. I’ve been on Tumblr for way too many years in various other fandoms and in theory I know how stuff works, and I’m still paranoid I’m going to fuck something up. It’s like starting a new job with new office colleagues but worse!

(Also sorry for venting in your inbox please feel free to ignore and delete if you don’t have the mental space at the moment)

Hey Non! 🖤

Oh my gosh, firstly, never apologise for being all up in my grill. I love it. 😎 Secondly, I'll accept any form of hug or fist bump going. Fact.

And thirdly, thank you so, so much; that's so kind and lovely of you to put that kindness out there. 😭 I'm not crying, you're crying...

And I'm so honoured and flattered you're seeking my advice on this. Like, lil' ol' me? Gosh! 🥹

Pull up a chair, Non... Let's chew the fat for a bit.

☝🏻This ended up being quite a lengthy response, but I wanted to say everything here I've said, as I feel that if you've reached out, there may be others feeling the same... so thank you for using your voice in this way. 🖤

Okay...

So, here's the thing. I was just like you, and still am to some degree in terms of being nervous about being in a fandom or posting/contributing. Nothing quite like the anxious shakes when you hit the post button, let me tell ya! 🥵

But it gets easier, and you feel more confident each time you do it. Trust me.

I was writing and actively contributing in a fandom, a few years back (much smaller than this one, MUCH smaller 😐) but sadly, I left because it became a toxic swamp, and nobody has time for that. Nu-uh.✋🏻

I'd been lurking in the Pedro fandom myself for quite some time, just reading - reading the heck out of all these amazing stories - and never actually joined Tumblr until the middle of this year I think it was, July?? 🤔 My first Tumblr account was actually deleted, (by, I think, my own ineptitude at using Tumblr 😅) and I remade it and started posting... and here we are. Lovely people like you are sending me Asks and I'm blown away by it.

I had this mental back and forth of 'do I really want to get involved passionately in another fandom and post etc...?' But you know what? Yes. Yes I do. Why? Because it makes me happy. And life is all about doing the things that make you happy, my friend!

The thing with fandom is, and any fandom, is that you get out of it what you put in. If you're someone who wants to contribute and share your ideas and creativity and make wonderful friends in the process, then I say bloody go for it!

Pedro is the commonality, but what ties us altogether is the sense of community here, I think.

This fandom is blessed that we have soooo many amazing and lovely people here, both as contributers and lurkers, and neither is superior to the other, in my opinion. Every single person is just as important or valid when it comes to being in a fandom.

To me, it's what makes a fandom. We're all equals.

I'm pleased to say that my personal experience in the Pedro fandom, thus far, has been nothing short of fun and brilliant. And that's a testament to all the people here; be it veterans who have been posting for years, and newcomers.

And lovely, you could never fuck something up.

Sure there's some Tumblr "etiquette" I guess you could say (and you might find reading this helpful to get you started. I know you mention you've been here for a while, but you never know if something helps, right?) but I've been here for a few months actively posting and I'm still learning new things myself, and will continue to, no doubt. I don't know everything and would certainly never claim to. I'm just out here doing me each day and living my Pedro best life with like minded people who rock. 🤘🏻

And there is always someone willing to help you on the end of a DM or Ask too. I've had so much helpful advice and tips from mutuals. And do I still make "mistakes"? Sure! As long as you're respectful, people will always bend over backwards to help and educate etc...

I'm super excited that you want to be here, but what makes you chicken out specifically? Is it that pesky feeling/voice that says you're not good enough? That this fandom is already so big, is there enough room for more stories, more creators?

Tell those niggles to do one, because honestly, there is plenty of room and you are more than good enough. Only you will hold you back, no-one else. Here, in the Pedro fandom, people will want to read your stories or see your art on their dash. I can guarantee it. 😘

One piece of advice I would give anyone though is to ignore the numbers. Don't worry if your story gets only a few re-blogs or reads. Fuck the numbers. Do it for you first and foremost because it makes you happy. If this gives you happiness in any format, then the numbers don't matter.

I hope this helps ease your mind a bit? And if you do end up posting something, I would be more than thrilled to read it and put it on my fic rec list! Exciting!! 🤗

Once again, Non, thank you for your kind words, and thank you for reaching out (and making it to the end of this essay, yikes! 😅).

It means the absolute world. 🖤

🖤

[burnin0akleaves]

Alright. I am no coward. I ain't gonna hide behind anon mask. I am sending this ask so everyone can see what I wanna say.

This community doesn't have as many artists, because we're not very large fandom, and each and everyone is precious to me. That goes out to fanartists, fanfic writers, mood board creators, craft creators (you all should check out Millie's RA crochet work) and others.

But today I wanna focus on you Howls. I appreciate your art very very much. Before I rejoined, I lurked around and your art was one of the things that made me smile. It still is. You have no idea how much eager I am always for notification "burnin0akleaves just posted a photo".

I love how heartfelt your art is. Every line you do is drawn with love for what you do (or horniness for Will Treaty, I love both). And that is the most beautiful thing about your art to me. I can feel your smile and enthusiasm in every piece you do. And I don't think it's just me. I think it applies to a lot of people. Not only do you supply us with beautiful art but also with the love that seeps from every brush of the pen.

To me, your RA art is one of the most fundamental and it creates beautiful memories for me of this fandom. And your RA is something absolutely ethereal and I recommend EVERYONE to go check out your other art. (Y'all just crush into Howls' dms like doom truck, he'll be happy)

I love your style so much. I love how you can combine strong expressive lineart with smooth brushes when rendering. I love the way your characters' eyes are always so alive, so expressive, so full of soul. And I absolutely adore the ingenuity of your art, the ideas you have. I admire your art so much and it makes me really happy to coexist in this space next to an artist such as yourself.

To me, you're intergral part of fanart soul of this fandom and I am so much honoured to be part of it when you're here.

I'm literally so dumbfounded right now I don't know what to say. This is one the sweetest messages a person has ever taken the time out of their day to write to me, which makes perfect sense actually considering how sweet you are as a person. Literally one of the kindest and most caring people I have ever met if not THE kindest and most caring person I know. I look up to you so much both as a human being and as an artist and it makes me so happy to be one of your close friends. I'm extremely flattered. Blushing a little. Maybe shaking and sobbing too who knows.

Thank you so much for the ask. Normally I'd be too embarrased to post this for everyone to see considering I'm not too good with compliments but I really like the things you said about the fandom and I kind of want others to read it too.

[biconickyoshi]

ive already put a comment on ur fic but i couldnt let it go without saying that i *literally* cant watch the main show without thinking about your fic and i wish that i could like. watch a version of the show that was your fic xD like ive been ranting and raving to my friends the entire time id been reading it and telling them to read it and i was planning on trying to get back into art so i could make some art of the boys, i am like. a changed person. this will be living in the back of my head rent free for the rest of eternity LMAO if you ever get like, doubtful of your skills or anything or unsure if people actually like anything youve wrote, i am here to tell u to not be cus i am *living* for this fic im running around in circles rereading it and getting zoomies lmfao, it is literally one of my fave fics of all time and ive been in fandom spaces for half my life now, its THAT GOOD (also anyone who follows you, you guys need to go read it honestly, IT NEEDS MORE HITS AND KUDOS AND AAAAGFAHGAF) im sorry if this ask is dumb or anything but. i had to let u know that u have CHANGED ME lmfao keep up the good work! i wish my brain worked the way yours does xD

Aaaaa it's so flattering to hear all of this anon!!! T-T Thank you so much!! I too very much wish there was a version of my show that was my fic lmao, I would loveeee to see so many scenes animated! Also it makes me SO happy to know that you're telling your friends about The Avatar and the Fire Prince!!! If you ever draw any fan art, pleaseeee mention me in the post and feel free to use "the avatar and the fire prince" and/or "taatfp" as a tag to help me find it! :)

Thank you so much for the encouraging words as well - I try not to get too in my head with worrying about whether or not people will like what I have planned for future plotlines, or if I'm writing in a way that stays true to the spirit/plot of the OG show while still being different enough to be entertaining/engaging... AtLA is such a precious piece of media to me, so I hold myself to very high standards, which can be detrimental when I just want to get a chapter out but I keep rereading it and finding little things "wrong" that need to be fixed lol.

Anyways this is NOT a dumb ask at all anon! I sincerely appreciate you taking the time to send this to me, and I apologize for not getting to it sooner! I've been a bit swamped with asks and comments recently so I've been trying to answer them in small chunks at a time haha

Hope you have a great day, and I'm super excited for you to see what I have planned for the future of TAatFP! :) <3

[incarnateirony]

Disappointed in Gaiman, but I hope the studios' vile treatment of the very people that make them rich backfires in the most spectacular way. The boycott must start now!

The revolution will not be televised, because the people making it have Cancelled Television.

I admit, the "kill all contracts" move came a few weeks, maybe a month earlier than I and others projected their escalation to, but the force majeure threats et al were expected enough the WGA got copies of it from lawyers before ever determining to strike.

These, like many details, are things fandoms simply don't think about between the lines that these unions and their members, especially their leadership, have to navigate; just like not understanding how Bad Of A Place the unions would need to be in to Officially Announce It. (Short v: legal fuckery, interwebbing media corps, "secondary damages", lawsuits, all momentum lost; suicide bomb level last stand declaration when consumers have been too addicted to do it themselves and enable the strike to go on indefinitely, as Sarah Silverman says)

It should not be a matter of kicking water uphill by fans justifying utter horse shit with "WELL TECHNICALLY" and "NO ADULTS ARE EXPLAINING TO ME HOW TO BE AN ETHICAL CONSUMER, SO I HAVE PERMISSION". Like. I never wanna hear a single woke line about consumerism from any of those blogs complicit in this horse shit ever again. You're de-progressived. Get out until you grow your own morals and ability to act.

No, union efforts do not work on Well Technicallies. They fucking do not, children. Finding loopholes to Well Technically through is just a way to avoid penalty from the union or avoid being ejected for outright violation, but if you're going against the flow and the group's self interest, you're still a scab, I do not care about your fucking Well Technicallies. The witcher author got it. Other fandoms get it. Only Gomens and a subsection of SPN fandom that saw parallel is going LALALALALA. One trekkie blog posts about it and people who haven't dicked over their own morals in self justification send that shit viral with only like 2 morons whining in the notes. Fandom needs to figure out that we see through your horse shit, and you are not going to impress us with Well Technically or someone's seventeenth bad attempt to nonlogic about leverage they imagine paying them while they fire their authors gives. Fuckin shit.

I'm not just disappointed in Gaiman. I'm disappointed in my own fandom, and even in myself because I majorly contributed to the AC/DC shit, had channels in server for it, made pushes; I made excuses for him about other things, trying to read him in good faith. Even with this, I read his initial statements going rogue from the silent agreements in good faith, but the longer he banged on the more blatantly vile it became. My server was a huge reason he got the AC/DC boost to begin with, so he can sit there smug thinking he can use tumblr brainwashees as his golden egg, but he is losing himself a lifetime of free advertising by the hundredsfold, and turning them into opposition, and that's his Personal Choice(TM).

Gaiman went from "no I will not promote during the strike" to a relentless assault of WATCH MY SHIT and posting flattering asks while dodging simple ones like "Do you support the WGA/SAG strike?" Like. We've fucking tested it. Neutrally phrased, simple yes, obviously duh would do. No responses. But he'll post the ones saying they watched the whole thing, or how gay it is because he knows the local marketing game, or ones asking how to put him ahead of the renewal pack, no problem. He's a fucking scab even consciously exploiting the search for representation as marketing, that crawled out of the anti-union comic book industry hole. I hate realizing it and admitting it to myself but I will not be a fucking enabler just because he made some of my favorite fictional characters. I care about the real people he's trying to outpace before the market collapse.

[gffa]

Not to add onto the whole "why the fuck are you getting so many negative anons lately?" train, but yeah it actually does suck to see you getting those.

I genuinely like your blog and I find your meta analysis super interesting even if I don't necessarily agree with your opinions/takes all the time. But I think that's mostly because I find great personal enjoyment in just seeing how other people interpret a piece of media I love differently from me.

Your posts have genuinely helped me fall even more in love with this fandom and I've actually taken some personal inspiration from you on how to handle these sort of weird/semi-hostile asks with my own blog.

Thanks, anon, I appreciate it. I'll be fair and say that part of why I'm getting more lately is that I'm answering a few of them, when I do that, I get more people continuing to send things, which is how it is for anyone who answers this kind of ask. When I don't have time/emotional reserves for asks or just delete/block them, it doesn't stir as much up--well, usually, sometimes I do get "why didn't you answer my ask??" messages and, like, guys I had THREE SEPARATE CRISES LAST WEEK, I'm only on tumblr to shitpost right now. And that's part of it, too, that I've had a really shitty month+ and so my patience for this is lower than it usually is and I may well have a lot of "fuck you, this is bullshit" undertones that are stirring things up as well. My blog isn't for everyone, but also my blog doesn't have to be all things to everyone who finds it interesting, it's my blog. It's for me. Yeah, I post a lot of stuff that I hope people find useful, I do a lot of resource/reference posts, I do a lot of official art posts, I try to be objective about stuff, etc, but at the end of the day, this isn't my job, I'm not a social media manager running a brand account, I'm not here to sell a product to a paying customer, this is my personal blog. I am one person who has my set of opinions, I'm not here to be all things to everyone. If you disagree with me on something, that's okay! I probably disagree with you right back! We're individual fans who have different opinions on stuff and maybe I'm louder than other people, but I am still just a single fan who wants to talk about what I think of Star Wars. I write posts I'm willing to share with others, I put my opinions out there, I understand the risks involved with that, but I think a few more people could do to understand that I'm not just a corporate employee writing up posts that someone else uses as source material, I am an individual fan writing my own opinions on things. The same goes for a lot of the blogs who are getting negative/semi-hostile anons, they're just a single person on the internet who wants to talk about how they see Star Wars! (I don't want people to worry, I don't classify anyone who disagrees with me as automatically hostile or negative, the posts I answers with good faith responses, I'm pretty sure came from good faith places.  We’re specifically talking about the “do your job” type of asks.) I'm deeply flattered that you're still hanging out even when you disagree sometimes, because that’s my ultimate goal.  Not necessarily to convert people (though, of course I would enjoy it if that happens, I’m only human XD) but to explain where I’m coming from and hopefully get people to understand how I got there, even if they’re not on the same road or going the same place. Fandom gets so much better when you realize not everyone has to agree with you, you don’t need every space to be for you, you don’t need every post to be one that hits your buttons just right.  You just need a handful of people that you’re having fun with and vibe with you, a handful more that can have some engaging, interesting discussions about topics you agree/disagree with when you’re in the right space for it, and a handful of artists/writers making the fic you enjoy.  That’s it, that’s the recipe to a good fandom experience, that you make the stuff that makes you happy and have a handful of people you can trust to talk to about it. If I can be one of those people that occasionally provides commentary you may not agree with, but find to be thoughtful/how I got there, then I will absolutely take that and find it to enrich my fandom experience, too.

[bogkeep]

hiya! hey! welcome to my bog! my name is

Theodore Haiz Heartsword-Thyme

but you can just call me Haiz, really! i'm the bogkeep around here, so let me know if you need anything!

🍄 twitter

🍄 toyhou.se (overview of my OCs)

🍄 Ao3

🍄 Ko-fi (tip jar)

🍄 linktree

🍄pronoun cards: EN | NO

🍄 reblog sideblog @longlostpath

About Me And This Blog Under The Cut:

🌿 BEFORE WE DO ANYTHING ELSE WHAT ARE YOUR PRONOUNS??????

in english i like to use they/them and he/him, no particular preference!

when it comes to gendered terms i prefer gender neutral + gently masculine terms, or terms used in a gender neutral manner. i realise this leaves things up for interpretation, but frankly i don't want to overthink gender any more than i have to!

🌿 WHAT THE HECK IS A BOGKEEP

it's like a barkeep but for bogs! this particular bogkeep seems to be a mix of nøkken, huldra, vodník, and possibly a changeling. maybe a cat? i wouldn't worry about it

🌿 WHO'S THE BOGKEEP?

hi i'm haiz nice to meet you. you can also call me theo or teddy if you'd like <3

i'm in my age 25+ era! i gotta say, getting older kinda rules

i'm norwegian and czech and currently live in, uhhhhh sweden????? i just got here and i'm still getting used to it!

i've been many things, such as an art history student, a children's book illustrator, a volunteer for queer organizations, a hotel receptionist, And Many More. right now i am a watchmaker student. i hope to be even more things in the future!

i love to DRAW and sometimes WRITE and i have a lot of FEELINGS ABOUT THINGS

🌿 WHAT'S THIS BLOG FOR?

this is my personal blog where i post my art! i also post Thoughts and Feelings when the urge strikes me. you can't really get one without the other, i have no way to Contain all of this!!

i post both Original Work and Fanart. the fandoms i dabble in tend to be a little obscure, but if you're reading this, chances are you've found me through one of them. thank you for enjoying my work <3

i also post photos sometimes!??!!??

i've had this blog since 2011/2012! it's a bit of an archive. i don't mind if you root around in the old stuff, just keep in mind that it's old!

sometimes i reblog unicorns as they are a Personal Motif of mine, but pretty much all other reblogs go to my sideblog, @longlostpath

i have two other sideblogs - one for funky fashion and the intricacies of having a body @ishallwearcosmos

and a sky blog @whentheskydoesthething

🌿 WHAT ARE THE TERMS AND CONDITIONS?

this is my personal space and i decide what goes on here.

i block the following: people who engage in bad faith, people who disrespect my humanity or that of my peers, people acting awful on my posts.

i have no wish to publicly participate in the Discourses. do not mistake this for neutrality or a lack of principles - i feel very strongly about inclusion, compassion, boundaries, personal growth, the vast diversity of human experiences, and the inherent messiness of being a person. i enjoy good faith discussions, but i prefer to have them in private.

anonymous asks are turned off. if you send an ask you don't want me to publish, just let me know!

i do my best to tag common triggers but i cannot promise 100% consistency.

likewise, i do my best to write image descriptions for the art i post, but due to personal inacessibilities it's a little sporadic. i write them in the alt text when i do.

🌿 CAN I USE YOUR ART FOR -

headers/icons/digital decoration? - yes! just please credit me somewhere. anything that's just fun personal use and not in any way profiting off of my work is a-ok! in fact i am flattered and honored

tattoos? - please ask me first! a lot of my work is of OCs, commissioned, or otherwise very personal - so it's a case by case decision!

real life wall decoration? - i do have a redbubble, but it's a little limited in scope - mostly because a lot of my work is fanart of other people's property. if there's something i've made you want to see on there, let me know and i'll see what i can do! as for fanart - i'm honestly okay with people printing their own prints for their personal blorbo shrines or whatever, as long as it's not for profit! if you contact me i can even share a hi-res version of the art with you ;3c

anything AI- or blockchain related? - nope! any use of my work in this context is without my permission.

[cozyqueerchaos]

hello!! I write some docs in the fandom, and I’d like some advice!

I’m cooking up a new AU in which Maria is alive, and Geralt as well - in it, Shadow is the sole income provider. (Geralt is too busy studying Maria’s condition and the grant money for his studies ran out a long time ago.)

The only thing is, I’m unsure how to approach Maria and Shadow’s relationship in this situation! I’m able bodied and so I’ve refrained from writing about her until now, out of la k of knowledge and stuff.

If you have the time or any ideas, I’d love to know how you’d handle their dynamic or any tips you can give me!! (It’s really not obligatory, I’ve just seen you speak on this subject before and thought to ask!!)

ps I love your works :3

Oh hi!! I'm really flattered you asked me- this is actually something I've been thinking about a lot lately since I've been working on a "Maria-lives" au of my own! (although gerald doesn't in mine. haha rip loser)

okay so general things:

- we don't know very much about maria which means you can do pretty much whatever you want, character-wise! We know she was hopeful and saw the good in everything (even creepy things), and that's pretty much it! Creative freedom haha

- we don't even know how old she is in relation to shadow (shadow was made after but his canon age is older than hers????). you can make that up too, and that will effect their dynamic. (Older siblings are often the "protective/calm" one)

- Maria has an autoimmune disorder, which means that she is vulnerable to external stimuli (aka viruses). If you wanted, you could have her wear a mask outside, or maybe make her or her family be slightly germaphobic :P (although theoretically shadow is immune to disease?)

- people with chronic pain often use mobility aids. not that you necessarily have to!! but it is an option

- there are good days and bad days. I live most of my life at a mild (3-5) level of pain and it doesn't change much since my hobbies aren't particularly active ones, but sometimes it shoots up to like an 8/10 and I'm basically out of commission.

- EVERYTHING is relative. Ever been sick in bed for a week? Or recovered from surgery? After a while, pain gets boring. You have to start doing things for your own sanity. And I think that's what's most important to remember with disabled characters (particularly ones with chronic pain)- after enough time spent with the same pain, you do actually grow accustomed to it. It doesn't make you any less sick, but you learn how to function within it

- that said, that level of function is different than an abled person's. Being sick is very tiring, and everyday things can cause pain. This differs for each person and each type of pain, but things like running, lifting objects, standing for long periods of time, etc.

I think that's all I got right now!! I don't feel like I answered your relationship dynamic question very well but hopefully that was at least a bit helpful! Lmk if there's anything I need to elaborate on ^_^ also feel free to send me the fic when you're done!! I love ARK sibling stuff hehe :D